On Wednesday night the World Series will begin under the concrete sky of Tropicana Field in Tampa-St Pete. With the defeat of the Boston Red Sox in the ALCS, the 2008 World Series will feature two teams whom I would not mind seeing win it all. There is no "evil empire" team in this Fall Classic. No one to loathe. Just, hopefully, plenty of well-played baseball featuring likable talented teams.
Not all World Series, we know all too well, can be pleasant series between equally appealing teams. Nor should they be. After Game 5 of this year's ALCS, a buddy of mine reminded me that we really do need to have a villain team against which we can root. When such a team goes down in flames, we Lilliputians dance on Gulliver's fallen body, ignoring temporarily that we were more interested in watching the giant fall than in seeing the underdog triumph. When the bad guys win, we curse the heavens and make grand pronouncements about the promises held in store by the eternal "next season."
Since I have been old enough to care about baseball, there has almost always been a good vs evil type of World Series Matchup. Good has triumphed fairly often.
1988: Dodgers (Good) defeat Athletics (Bad)
1989: Athletics (Bad) defeat Giants (Good)
1990: Reds (Good) defeat Athletics (Bad)
1988 through 1990 brought me into contact with the first evil empire of my baseball life. It wasn't until much later (early 2005 to be exact) when I learned just how evil the Jose Canseco & Mark McGwire "Bash Brothers" teams had been. But, even in October 1988, it was clear that the Dodgers were to be cheered for over the sluggers from Oakland. Kirk Gibson's legendary pinch-hit game winning jack off of uber-closer Dennis Eckersley in Game 1 that year was a nice introduction into the limitless possibilities of a "good vs evil" World Series.
Neutral interlude: 1991: Twins defeat Braves
The greatest World Series ever played featured two likable "worst-to-first" teams. I was rooting for Atlanta, but, there were no compelling reasons to root against Minnesota. The Series provided dramatic finishes, extra-inning tension, and great performances from great players (Jack Morris threw 10 shutout innings in Game 7!). There were also the heroics of lesser mortals: little Mark Lemke, Brian Harper, and Ron Gant come to mind. The 1991 Fall Classic was baseball at its finest, played with passion by two exciting teams who were relative newcomers to postseason baseball.
1992: Blue Jays (Bad) defeat Braves (Good)
1993: Blue Jays (Bad) defeat Phillies (Good)
For many people, the Blue Jays of the early 1990s might not have been the personification of evil, but, for everyone from Baltimore, the Cito Gasten-led Toronto teams were to be reviled. They had edged out my Orioles for the AL East in 1989, an offense for which there is no forgiveness. In July 1993, Cito Gasten descended to "super vilain" status by refusing to insert Mike Mussina into the All-Star Game despite the pleas of 47,000 Baltimore fans in attendance at Camden Yards. "Cito Sucks" t-shirts sold like proverbial hotcakes around Baltimore. When October rolled around that year, and Joe Carter made his famous leaping, skipping and series-winning trip around the bases, I hung my head to mourn a second straight triumph of evil in the World Series.
1994: Baseball Economics (Bad) defeats Childhood innocence (Good)
Neutral Interlude: 1995: Braves defeat Indians
What wasn't to love about this series? An up-and-coming Cleveland team which featured a few loveable old faces (Hershiser, Dennis Martinez, Eddie Murray) and some young stars (Albert Belle, Manny Ramirez, Jim Thome, et al) squared off with a Braves team still in search of its first World Series crown since moving to the Deep South. Game Six was an all-time classic as Tom Glavine spun a one-hitter for 8 innings, David Justice launched a solo homer, and Atlanta won its first World Series Championship.
1996: Yankees (Bad) defeat Braves (Good)
The first world Championship of a revived Yankee Dynasty. The pinstriped crew from the Bronx fell behind 2-0 to the Braves before rattling off four straight wins to claim the first of what would become 4 World Championships in 5 years.
The Wrong Teams were playing: 1997: Marlins defeat Indians
As an Orioles fan, I was too angry at life (and at Armando Benetiz) to be able to enjoy this series. That was a shame because it went seven games.
1998: Yankees (Bad) defeat Padres (Good)
1999: Yankees (Bad) defeat Braves (Good)
2000: Yankees (Bad) defeat Mets (Good)
2001: Diamondbacks (Good) defeat Yankees (Bad)
The Yankee Dynasty. Every series was potentially exciting because every series was a matchup of good vs evil. 1998, 1999, and 2000 ended with more championship banners flying in the Bronx. And lets face it, once we realized that the underdogs had NO HOPE WHATSOEVER, these series lost their appeal really really quickly. In 2001, a furious Game 7 Arizona rally against Mariano Rivera brought down the invincible Yankees. At last, good had overcome.
2002: Neutral Interlude: Angels defeat Giants
At the time, we didn't know that we hated Barry Bonds. We knew he wasn't the world's friendliest fellow, but all of the unfortunate details about his workout and nutritional habits would come to light much later. In 2002, it was the upstart Angels against the Single Season Homerun King and his San Francisco teammates. Great Series that went the full seven games.
2003: Marlins (Good) defeat Yankees (Bad)
In the last World Series appearance of the Joe Torre-led Yankee Dynasty, the New Yorkers ran into the buzzsaw of Josh Beckett and the Florida Marlins. Perhaps as proof that no one stays on the side of good forever, Josh Beckett would become an active contributer to great evil in 2007.
2004: Red Sox (Good) defeat Cardinals (less good)
Remember how much fun this was? Remember how close to giddy we all became when the Red Sox rallied from an 0-3 hole against the Yankees in the ALCS? Remember the joy in seeing the headlines proclaiming that the Curse of the Bambino was officially broken? Remember when Red Sox fans weren't boasting and loud? In 2004, they really weren't the Evil "Nation" yet. Really. The day after the World Series ended, I began regretting having rooted for the Sox all October. How quickly they turned to the Dark Side.
2005: White Sox defeat Astros
2006: Cardinals defeat Tigers
The outcome of these Series didn't bother me. I would have preferred that the Tigers had won in 2006, but, what wasn't to like about any of the teams during these two series. Sadly, neither Series was particularly entertaining, but, for my money, 2005 was the most hotly contested 4-game sweep in World Series history.
2007: Red Sox (Bad) defeat Rockies (Good)
Josh Beckett's Darth Vadar moment. It was official as soon as the Series was underway: The Red Sox were the new Evil Empire. For the three seasons since their 2004 triumph, their fans became increasingly insufferable, the players became way too full of themselves, and other teams picked up the mantel of "Embodiment of Good." The Sox will have to wait 86 years in order to reclaim their crown of "America's underdog."
There is no villain this year. All I ask from the Phillies and Rays is that they 1) entertain me for a week and 2) Don't go over to the Dark Side immediately after winning. In other words: Provide us with a good series and then don't make us immediately regret having enjoyed it!
Play Ball!
Monday, October 20, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Lamentable Loss
At some point in the 7th inning of tonight's Tampa Bay meltdown at Fenway Park I realized why i've been in such agony for the last few ALCS games. I've been really pleased with the outcome of most of the games, but, each night, until the final Red Sox out is recorded, I have had a sick feeling in my stomach. Tonight I realized why.
The Red Sox have broken my spirit.
I want them to lose so badly, and, in recent years, they just haven't been cooperating. I'm forced to confront this situation at least 3 times a week on TV thanks to ESPN's current love affair with "Red Sox Nation." Sportscenter covers them with great regularity.
I am annoyed by their fans who, after the team won a World Series in 2004, magically discovered that they want to swarm to Camden Yards every summer when the Red Sox come to Baltimore. I kick myself for not yet having given a Red Sox IQ test to the blue and red (and green!) wearing masses who take over my home park several times a season. Until I do so, I will refrain from commenting on the baseball knowledge of their fanbase.
I can't stand that Jason Varitek wears a "C" on his jersey. No other team captains do that in professional baseball. Why should he?
I find all of Kevin Youkilis' mannerisms, his temperment, and his appearance offensive.
Dustin Pedroia reminds me of Gerry McNamara. And Gerry McNamara is the anti-christ.
Curt Schilling is a bigoted idiot who would do well to leave his political views far far away from the playing field. He talks too much.
JD Drew is everything that is wrong about modern baseball economics.
Thanks to ESPN, I have heard more about Josh Beckett's arm during the past few months than I have heard about progress in the War in Afghanistan.
Mike Timlin may have been the worst in a long line of failed Orioles closers. (And thats saying something!)
Jonathon Papelbon is obnoxious. Save the celebratory gyrations and shouting for your offseason saturday night bowling league.
I think that its obscene that sports announcers use the nickname "Big Papi" or just "Papi" to refer to David Ortiz. Cal Ripken was never simply referred to as "Ironman" during play-by-play.
Also, anyone well versed in Domincan slang want to take a crack at street usage of the term "Papi"??
I have horrible memories of a walk-off game-winning homerun by David Ortiz off of BJ Ryan in 2005. I remember all too well when the Orioles blew a 5 run 9th inning lead on Mothers' Day 2007 at Fenway Park. I saw Chris Ray give up a game-winning grandslam to Wily Mo Pena (yes, he did hit a homer for the Red Sox in 2007) before a packed house at Camden Yards.
I thought that the Indians had them beat last October. Up 3 games to 1. Then the Red Sox rattled of 3 straight and swept a flat Colorado team for the World Series Title.
In short, the thought of the Red Sox season ending before the World Series begins is a thought that is too fantastic, too utopian, too wonderful for my brain to comprehend. Nights like tonight only worsen my Red Sox complex. All I can see in my head right now is another emphatic Papelbon celebration after they've won the World Series. I don't want to see that in my head. I want to see Tampa jumping up and down near the pitcher's mound on Saturday night. If I keep trying hard enough, maybe, just maybe, It could happen.
The Red Sox have broken my spirit.
I want them to lose so badly, and, in recent years, they just haven't been cooperating. I'm forced to confront this situation at least 3 times a week on TV thanks to ESPN's current love affair with "Red Sox Nation." Sportscenter covers them with great regularity.
I am annoyed by their fans who, after the team won a World Series in 2004, magically discovered that they want to swarm to Camden Yards every summer when the Red Sox come to Baltimore. I kick myself for not yet having given a Red Sox IQ test to the blue and red (and green!) wearing masses who take over my home park several times a season. Until I do so, I will refrain from commenting on the baseball knowledge of their fanbase.
I can't stand that Jason Varitek wears a "C" on his jersey. No other team captains do that in professional baseball. Why should he?
I find all of Kevin Youkilis' mannerisms, his temperment, and his appearance offensive.
Dustin Pedroia reminds me of Gerry McNamara. And Gerry McNamara is the anti-christ.
Curt Schilling is a bigoted idiot who would do well to leave his political views far far away from the playing field. He talks too much.
JD Drew is everything that is wrong about modern baseball economics.
Thanks to ESPN, I have heard more about Josh Beckett's arm during the past few months than I have heard about progress in the War in Afghanistan.
Mike Timlin may have been the worst in a long line of failed Orioles closers. (And thats saying something!)
Jonathon Papelbon is obnoxious. Save the celebratory gyrations and shouting for your offseason saturday night bowling league.
I think that its obscene that sports announcers use the nickname "Big Papi" or just "Papi" to refer to David Ortiz. Cal Ripken was never simply referred to as "Ironman" during play-by-play.
Also, anyone well versed in Domincan slang want to take a crack at street usage of the term "Papi"??
I have horrible memories of a walk-off game-winning homerun by David Ortiz off of BJ Ryan in 2005. I remember all too well when the Orioles blew a 5 run 9th inning lead on Mothers' Day 2007 at Fenway Park. I saw Chris Ray give up a game-winning grandslam to Wily Mo Pena (yes, he did hit a homer for the Red Sox in 2007) before a packed house at Camden Yards.
I thought that the Indians had them beat last October. Up 3 games to 1. Then the Red Sox rattled of 3 straight and swept a flat Colorado team for the World Series Title.
In short, the thought of the Red Sox season ending before the World Series begins is a thought that is too fantastic, too utopian, too wonderful for my brain to comprehend. Nights like tonight only worsen my Red Sox complex. All I can see in my head right now is another emphatic Papelbon celebration after they've won the World Series. I don't want to see that in my head. I want to see Tampa jumping up and down near the pitcher's mound on Saturday night. If I keep trying hard enough, maybe, just maybe, It could happen.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
At Least in 2004 They Didn't Have an Owner
Do you hear that sound?
A rush of air, the squeak of hinges. We all brace ourselves for the inevitable KABOOM!
Yes, the door of opportunity for the Washington Nationals to establish themselves as a real baseball team worthy of the love of a long-baseball-deprived fanbase is quickly closing. Once it actually slams shut, it won’t be easy to re-open.
Just ask The Tampa Bay Rays. After hanging out in the AL East basement for their first 10 seasons of existence, not even the dream season they’re experiencing in 2008 has been able to fill the seats at Tropicana Field. That door has been closed too tightly for too long to just fly open because of a sudden burst of pennant fever wind. Scott Kazmir has lamented the empty seats repeatedly in interviews with the media. The team notices. ESPN notices.
Since coming to Washington in 2005, the Nationals have had a WORSE RECORD than the franchise posted during their last 4 seasons in Montreal:
Montreal
2001: 68-94
2002: 83-79
2003: 83-79
2004: 67-95
Winning %: .465
Washington
2005: 81-81
2006: 71-91
2007: 73-89
2008: 57-93
Winning %: .443
Losing is one thing. Losing at a worse clip than your ancestors who were owned by Major League Baseball is unthinkable. Let’s examine the 2001-2004 Expos for a second to drive this point home.
At the close of the 2001 season, the Expos were on MLB’s chopping block. After a losing season in which their attendance had fell to an average of below 8,000 per game, The Expos were widely rumored to be one of two teams headed for contraction after club owners 28-2 to disband two teams. Before the start of the 2002 season, Expos owner Jeffery Loria purchased the Marlins from John Henry, and bolted to the Sunshine State taking with him all of the Expos front office, management personnel, and even office equipment. Major League Baseball then bought the team for 100,000,000 from Loria and, contraction having failed because of some clever legal maneuvering by the City of Minneapolis to keep the Twins alive, MLB was forced to try to run the Expos in 2002. Frank Robinson was brought out of retirement to manage the club. Omar Minaya was made the GM and given a 35 million dollar budget with which to do business.
The team was in contention for much of 2002 In July, with the trading deadline looming, Minaya made a blockbuster move to acquire Bartolo Colon from Cleveland. In exchange for Colon, Montreal parted with Brandon Phillips, Cliff Lee, and Grady Sizemore. It’s hard to argue with conspiracy theorists when they assert that the trade was a deliberate attempt by MLB to sink the future of the Montreal franchise, facilitate contraction, and enrich the team, Cleveland, of one of the 29 men who “owned” Montreal.
The 2003 Expos also contended for a playoff birth. Rather than sinking the fortunes of the Expos through a one-sided trade, MLB torpedoed their pennant chances by forbidding Minaya to call up fresh players from the minor leagues during September. Citing financial restrictions, the Expos made do with their 25-man roster until the bitter end of 2003. They finished 8 games behind the wild-card winning Marlins. Critics in the national media lambasted MLB for a “conflict of interest” for having the Expos competitors control the franchise’s purse strings.
In 2004, as in 2003, the Expos played a large chunk of their games in San Juan Puerto Rico. Unlike the 2003 squad, the 2004 Expos did not challenge for a post-season berth. By mid-September, MLB announced that the Expos would move to Washington, DC for the 2005 season. The team finished in last place.
Since moving to Washington, the Nationals have returned to private ownership, moved into a bright new ballpark, and played 2 ½ seasons totally free from the artificial financial constraints imposed by MLB.
And the team has S-T-U-N-K.
Injuries certainly deserve some of the blame for the debacle which has been the 2008 season. Every position player but one who started for the Nationals on opening night has spent at least 15 days on the Disabled List. No amount of planning could have warded off the injury bug.
But, it is mind boggling to think that the 2007 and 2008 Nationals have been finished with at least 10 fewer wins than the 2002 and 2003 clubs which were either A) deliberately being driven into the ground by MLB or B) for the slightly less cynical, operating under ungodly financial restrictions. It appears that even the vagabond 2004 team will have had more wins than the 2008 Nationals.
Think about that for a second. The 2008 Washington Nationals will finish with a worse record than their 2004 counterparts who had 2 homes, 29 owners who had no reason to want the team to win, a 35 million dollar operating budget, and an unsure future.
How is that possible?
A rush of air, the squeak of hinges. We all brace ourselves for the inevitable KABOOM!
Yes, the door of opportunity for the Washington Nationals to establish themselves as a real baseball team worthy of the love of a long-baseball-deprived fanbase is quickly closing. Once it actually slams shut, it won’t be easy to re-open.
Just ask The Tampa Bay Rays. After hanging out in the AL East basement for their first 10 seasons of existence, not even the dream season they’re experiencing in 2008 has been able to fill the seats at Tropicana Field. That door has been closed too tightly for too long to just fly open because of a sudden burst of pennant fever wind. Scott Kazmir has lamented the empty seats repeatedly in interviews with the media. The team notices. ESPN notices.
Since coming to Washington in 2005, the Nationals have had a WORSE RECORD than the franchise posted during their last 4 seasons in Montreal:
Montreal
2001: 68-94
2002: 83-79
2003: 83-79
2004: 67-95
Winning %: .465
Washington
2005: 81-81
2006: 71-91
2007: 73-89
2008: 57-93
Winning %: .443
Losing is one thing. Losing at a worse clip than your ancestors who were owned by Major League Baseball is unthinkable. Let’s examine the 2001-2004 Expos for a second to drive this point home.
At the close of the 2001 season, the Expos were on MLB’s chopping block. After a losing season in which their attendance had fell to an average of below 8,000 per game, The Expos were widely rumored to be one of two teams headed for contraction after club owners 28-2 to disband two teams. Before the start of the 2002 season, Expos owner Jeffery Loria purchased the Marlins from John Henry, and bolted to the Sunshine State taking with him all of the Expos front office, management personnel, and even office equipment. Major League Baseball then bought the team for 100,000,000 from Loria and, contraction having failed because of some clever legal maneuvering by the City of Minneapolis to keep the Twins alive, MLB was forced to try to run the Expos in 2002. Frank Robinson was brought out of retirement to manage the club. Omar Minaya was made the GM and given a 35 million dollar budget with which to do business.
The team was in contention for much of 2002 In July, with the trading deadline looming, Minaya made a blockbuster move to acquire Bartolo Colon from Cleveland. In exchange for Colon, Montreal parted with Brandon Phillips, Cliff Lee, and Grady Sizemore. It’s hard to argue with conspiracy theorists when they assert that the trade was a deliberate attempt by MLB to sink the future of the Montreal franchise, facilitate contraction, and enrich the team, Cleveland, of one of the 29 men who “owned” Montreal.
The 2003 Expos also contended for a playoff birth. Rather than sinking the fortunes of the Expos through a one-sided trade, MLB torpedoed their pennant chances by forbidding Minaya to call up fresh players from the minor leagues during September. Citing financial restrictions, the Expos made do with their 25-man roster until the bitter end of 2003. They finished 8 games behind the wild-card winning Marlins. Critics in the national media lambasted MLB for a “conflict of interest” for having the Expos competitors control the franchise’s purse strings.
In 2004, as in 2003, the Expos played a large chunk of their games in San Juan Puerto Rico. Unlike the 2003 squad, the 2004 Expos did not challenge for a post-season berth. By mid-September, MLB announced that the Expos would move to Washington, DC for the 2005 season. The team finished in last place.
Since moving to Washington, the Nationals have returned to private ownership, moved into a bright new ballpark, and played 2 ½ seasons totally free from the artificial financial constraints imposed by MLB.
And the team has S-T-U-N-K.
Injuries certainly deserve some of the blame for the debacle which has been the 2008 season. Every position player but one who started for the Nationals on opening night has spent at least 15 days on the Disabled List. No amount of planning could have warded off the injury bug.
But, it is mind boggling to think that the 2007 and 2008 Nationals have been finished with at least 10 fewer wins than the 2002 and 2003 clubs which were either A) deliberately being driven into the ground by MLB or B) for the slightly less cynical, operating under ungodly financial restrictions. It appears that even the vagabond 2004 team will have had more wins than the 2008 Nationals.
Think about that for a second. The 2008 Washington Nationals will finish with a worse record than their 2004 counterparts who had 2 homes, 29 owners who had no reason to want the team to win, a 35 million dollar operating budget, and an unsure future.
How is that possible?
Friday, September 5, 2008
A Meaningless Statistical Inquiry
Something has been bothering me all summer.
No. Not Jamie Walker's ERA, WHIP, or HR:IP ratio. More here
No. Not the fact that my Red Sox fan roommate could watch her team thrice weekly thanks to ESPN's decision to become the State TV network of "Red Sox Nation"
No. Not the fact that the Reds traded Ken Griffey Jr to Chicago ONE DAY BEFORE they came to Washington for a 4-game series.
No. The thing that has bothered me all summer is the strangely low RBI total of Orioles left-fielder Luke Scott. Don't get me wrong, Luuuuuuuuuuuke has been having a fine season and I contend that the Orioles got the better end of the trade last december which brought him to Charm City. But, for a man with 21 homeruns to his name, his current RBI total of 58 seems small.
It's a meaningless stat, but, Scott's RBI:HR ratio is 2.762. I did some checking, and, I was shocked to find that his ratio is actually far from the lowest in baseball.
Several notables have much lower numbers such as:
Pat Burrell of Phillidelphia: 2.567
Adam Dunn of Arizona: 2.514
Marcus Thames of Detroit: 2.136
Hanley Ramirez of Florida: 2.103
And the lowest of anyone with at least 15 homers to their name...
Scott Hairston of San Diego: 1.824 (17 Homeruns and 31 RBI)
By comparison, Bobby Abreu of New York has a 5.600 ratio (15 HR and 84 RBI). Next highest is Justin Morneau who with 21 dingers and 109 RBI is rocking a 5.190 ratio.
Obviously alot of things contribute to the huge gap between Abreu and Hairston. When he starts, Hairston often bats leadoff on a bad National League team. His chances of coming up in good RBI situations with men on base are much lower than someone like Abreu who bats near the middle of a very potent Yankee lineup. Batting behind Derek Jeter and in front of A-Rod certainly boosts Abreu's RBI totals while not forcing him to hit alot of homers.
Its the place in the lineup/quality of lineup argument which caused me to ponder Luke Scott's totals. The 2008 Orioles, for all of their well-documented flaws, are an offensively potent team. Scott has spent much of the season batting behind players such as Aubrey Huff, Nick Markakis, and Melvin Mora who are enjoying excellent 2008 campaigns. However, having seen that Luke Scott compares closely to noted run producers such as the aforementioned Dunn and Burrell, I will leave the matter alone.
No. Not Jamie Walker's ERA, WHIP, or HR:IP ratio. More here
No. Not the fact that my Red Sox fan roommate could watch her team thrice weekly thanks to ESPN's decision to become the State TV network of "Red Sox Nation"
No. Not the fact that the Reds traded Ken Griffey Jr to Chicago ONE DAY BEFORE they came to Washington for a 4-game series.
No. The thing that has bothered me all summer is the strangely low RBI total of Orioles left-fielder Luke Scott. Don't get me wrong, Luuuuuuuuuuuke has been having a fine season and I contend that the Orioles got the better end of the trade last december which brought him to Charm City. But, for a man with 21 homeruns to his name, his current RBI total of 58 seems small.
It's a meaningless stat, but, Scott's RBI:HR ratio is 2.762. I did some checking, and, I was shocked to find that his ratio is actually far from the lowest in baseball.
Several notables have much lower numbers such as:
Pat Burrell of Phillidelphia: 2.567
Adam Dunn of Arizona: 2.514
Marcus Thames of Detroit: 2.136
Hanley Ramirez of Florida: 2.103
And the lowest of anyone with at least 15 homers to their name...
Scott Hairston of San Diego: 1.824 (17 Homeruns and 31 RBI)
By comparison, Bobby Abreu of New York has a 5.600 ratio (15 HR and 84 RBI). Next highest is Justin Morneau who with 21 dingers and 109 RBI is rocking a 5.190 ratio.
Obviously alot of things contribute to the huge gap between Abreu and Hairston. When he starts, Hairston often bats leadoff on a bad National League team. His chances of coming up in good RBI situations with men on base are much lower than someone like Abreu who bats near the middle of a very potent Yankee lineup. Batting behind Derek Jeter and in front of A-Rod certainly boosts Abreu's RBI totals while not forcing him to hit alot of homers.
Its the place in the lineup/quality of lineup argument which caused me to ponder Luke Scott's totals. The 2008 Orioles, for all of their well-documented flaws, are an offensively potent team. Scott has spent much of the season batting behind players such as Aubrey Huff, Nick Markakis, and Melvin Mora who are enjoying excellent 2008 campaigns. However, having seen that Luke Scott compares closely to noted run producers such as the aforementioned Dunn and Burrell, I will leave the matter alone.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Love and Baseball Part III
Two weeks ago, the Baltimore Orioles swept the Houston Astros in a 3-game mid-week inter-league series played at Camden Yards. To the untrained eye, it was a wholly unremarkable occurrence. A team which is showing signs of improvement after a dismal decade won three straight games against a team which, by all accounts, is coming apart at the seems and headed for a well below .500 finish. I doubt anyone at ESPN even considered any of the three games for national tv coverage. And justifiably so. Boston Red Sox pre-game stretching has more of a national draw than mid-week Orioles vs Astros.
Despite what those who would jump at the chance to watch Kevin Youkilis limber up would have you believe, The Orioles-Astros series was indeed extraordinary. All three games had dramatic finishes. All three featured lead changes, timely hitting, clutch pitching and acrobatic defense. Most importantly, I watched all three games from the 3rd base-side lower box seats with my favorite Houston Astros fan. Though perhaps not the most conflict-free dating strategy (I doubt too many Roman boys asked Christian girls to go see Lions vs. Christians in the Colosseum) I am pleased to report that after three summer nights in Baltimore, my favorite baseball fan is still speaking to me.
In what may accurately be called PUSHING MY LUCK, I have decided to write about the series sweep. Over the next few days, I intend to weave my mental notes, our scorecards, and my occasional scribbled side-comments into a narrative which tells the story of 3 games, 3 dates, and 1 very very contented Orioles fan.
Despite what those who would jump at the chance to watch Kevin Youkilis limber up would have you believe, The Orioles-Astros series was indeed extraordinary. All three games had dramatic finishes. All three featured lead changes, timely hitting, clutch pitching and acrobatic defense. Most importantly, I watched all three games from the 3rd base-side lower box seats with my favorite Houston Astros fan. Though perhaps not the most conflict-free dating strategy (I doubt too many Roman boys asked Christian girls to go see Lions vs. Christians in the Colosseum) I am pleased to report that after three summer nights in Baltimore, my favorite baseball fan is still speaking to me.
In what may accurately be called PUSHING MY LUCK, I have decided to write about the series sweep. Over the next few days, I intend to weave my mental notes, our scorecards, and my occasional scribbled side-comments into a narrative which tells the story of 3 games, 3 dates, and 1 very very contented Orioles fan.
The scoreboard operators should have known this was coming. After a night in which any well-trained baboon could have keyed in the parade of zeros which covered the screen, Thursday night will be a lot more colorful. Even our seating arrangements will be chaotic, as, ticket-holders will repeatedly show up over the course of the first few innings brandishing tickets for the seats in which we are illegitimately sitting in my uncle’s 3rd base side section.
But first things first. After Orange Wild Bill Hagy Jerseys on Tuesday, and Retro adjustable hats on Wednesday, tonight’s door prizes are Nick Markakis bobbleheads. It’s a good-looking souvenir, 31,480 folks show up to get one.
The run scoring starts early. Michael Bourn leads off with a bunt base hit. With 2 outs, Bourn swipes 2nd base and promptly scores on a Lance Berkman RBI single. Brian Burres whiffs Carlos Lee for the 3rd out, avoiding further damage.
The Bourn stolen base is not a fluke; the Astros are a running-crazed team. Much to my companion’s chagrin, Cecil Cooper is determined to win games by stealing bases. As of this writing (July 10) the Astros lead the national league in having their runner gunned out on the base paths. 31 Astros have perished in the act of attempted theft. To put that in some perspective, that is as many or more caught stealing as 4 teams have stolen bases. The Astros run a lot.
The top of the second inning starts badly. Hunter Pence, he of the wiry frame and hyperactivity, raps a Burres offering deep into the left field lower deck to give the visitors a 2-0 lead. Burres is starting to look a little flustered as he immediately walks bald-headed Ty Wigginton. I slump a bit in my seat, preparing for an implosion. But, no such calamity is forthcoming. Burres retires the next 3 batters and order prevails.
In the top of the 3rd, Miguel Tejada, who has been irrationally booed for the duration of the 3-game series by many of the
Last night’s hero, Kevin Millar, is at it again in the bottom of the frame. With 2 outs and white and orange-clad runners occupying every base, Millar patiently watches 4 balls go past him for the always sexy RBI walk. Astros lead sliced in half.
Ramon Hernandez, who acquired the nickname “Magnificent Bum” during the Pirates series over Fathers Day weekend, is magnificent in his at-bat leading off the 4th. Hernandez turns around a Shawn Chacon fastball and drives it into the left field boxes to tie the game. 2-2. But more joy is forthcoming. As my companion gets that uneasy look on her face of a fan who is beginning to fear witnessing a sweep, Alex Cintron cracks a big fly into the right-center bleachers. 4 innings are in the books. The Birds hold a 3-2 advantage.
Burres is starting to look sharp. The Astros go scoreless in the 5th. The orioles have no intention of going so quietly. Back-to-back singles by Mora and Huff bring up the fair-headed Kevin Millar. Millar’s RBI binge is not complete. He rockets a double to deep centerfield. Mora scores easily, Huff, laboriously plods to 3rd base. It cannot be overstated; Huff and Millar are painfully slow runners. But this inning, that won’t matter. After a fly out to short right by Scott and a groundout by Hernandez, Jay Payton brings both heavy-footed oriole baserunners homeward with a 2-run single.
6-2 Birds. Not for long. Miguel Tejada makes it 6-3 with a blast to left field. It’s still a 3-run Astros deficit, so the celebration by my game-companion is subdued. Given the absolutely classless and unwarranted abuse that Tejada has taken from the once adoring
With 2 men out in the 6th, Burres walks Ty Wigginton. The tying run comes to the plate in the person of veteran Mark Loretta. Exit Burres. Enter pudgy Matt Albers. Loretta lines out to Cintron at short. Still 6-3 for the home team.
After the singing of Thank God I’m a Country Boy, Aubrey Huff cranks a homerun to right field off of lefty Tim Byrdak. 7-3 Orioles. A sweep is temptingly close. I’m excited. Worn out from lots of driving and 26 innings of baseball, but excited. The girl in the Astros gear sitting next to me seems about ready to strangle either me, Huff, or perhaps most satisfying of all, Cecil Cooper.
The 9th inning dawns and suddenly the brakes have been slammed on the Happy Joyful Train to
2 on. 1 out. Sarfate walks Michael Bourn. Bases loaded. Tying run coming to the plate. Dave Trembley emerges from the dugout and replaces Sarfate with the flat-brimmed George Sherrill. Kaz Matsui elevates a Sherrill offering to right field, but, Markakis easily snags it for the 2nd out. 1 run scores on the play. 7-4 good guys. Miguel Tejada steps into the batters box. Nervous Orioles rooters toss unnecessary invective his way. How ironic, I let myself think, if Tejada were to blast a game-tying homer right now. It’s what the hecklers deserve. No homer is forthcoming. Instead, the former Oriole shortstop hits a high chopper to shortstop, which Cintron drops. Allow me to repeat that last clause: Cintron drops. The official scorer takes pity on the Orioles shortstop and declares the play a base hit. I disagree.
7-5. Go-ahead run striding to the plate in the person of Lance Berkman. He’s 3 for 4 on the night and homered in last night’s game. I don’t like where this is headed. In my nervousness, I fail to observe if my long-suffering game-watching buddy has taken this last-ditch opportunity to smile over the prospects of a miracle comeback. Berkman, batting right handed against the left-handed Orioles closer, gets under a 1-2 offering from Sherrill and skies a game-ending fly ball to Payton’s waiting glove in left field.
The stress of the 9th really zapped some of my energy to enjoy having just seen a sweep in person. The Orioles Magic music video is playing on the over-sized TV in centerfield. A long-suffering, wonderful, and worn out Astros fan walks out of the stadium with me. Her team has blown a lead in all three games. All three contests have ended in dramatic fashion. And, now, defeated, the Astros have an 8th straight loss to show for their efforts. Though my Lions have eaten her Christians three nights in a row, I receive the happy assurance as we leave that there will be more baseball this summer for the two of us.
Of all the wonderfulness involved in seeing my favorite team win three games in a row, the promise of future baseball with the greatest double-X chromosome’d fan is, by far, the highlight of the week.
Love and Baseball Part II
Two weeks ago, the Baltimore Orioles swept the Houston Astros in a 3-game mid-week inter-league series played at Camden Yards. To the untrained eye, it was a wholly unremarkable occurrence. A team which is showing signs of improvement after a dismal decade won three straight games against a team which, by all accounts, is coming apart at the seems and headed for a well below .500 finish. I doubt anyone at ESPN even considered any of the three games for national tv coverage. And justifiably so. Boston Red Sox pre-game stretching has more of a national draw than mid-week Orioles vs Astros.
Despite what those who would jump at the chance to watch Kevin Youkilis limber up would have you believe, The Orioles-Astros series was indeed extraordinary. All three games had dramatic finishes. All three featured lead changes, timely hitting, clutch pitching and acrobatic defense. Most importantly, I watched all three games from the 3rd base-side lower box seats with my favorite Houston Astros fan. Though perhaps not the most conflict-free dating strategy (I doubt too many Roman boys asked Christian girls to go see Lions vs. Christians in the Colosseum) I am pleased to report that after three summer nights in Baltimore, my favorite baseball fan is still speaking to me.
In what may accurately be called PUSHING MY LUCK, I have decided to write about the series sweep. Over the next few days, I intend to weave my mental notes, our scorecards, and my occasional scribbled side-comments into a narrative which tells the story of 3 games, 3 dates, and 1 very very contented Orioles fan.
Despite what those who would jump at the chance to watch Kevin Youkilis limber up would have you believe, The Orioles-Astros series was indeed extraordinary. All three games had dramatic finishes. All three featured lead changes, timely hitting, clutch pitching and acrobatic defense. Most importantly, I watched all three games from the 3rd base-side lower box seats with my favorite Houston Astros fan. Though perhaps not the most conflict-free dating strategy (I doubt too many Roman boys asked Christian girls to go see Lions vs. Christians in the Colosseum) I am pleased to report that after three summer nights in Baltimore, my favorite baseball fan is still speaking to me.
In what may accurately be called PUSHING MY LUCK, I have decided to write about the series sweep. Over the next few days, I intend to weave my mental notes, our scorecards, and my occasional scribbled side-comments into a narrative which tells the story of 3 games, 3 dates, and 1 very very contented Orioles fan.
The atmosphere at Harborplace at 6:00 is calm. Not a Red Sox fan in sight. Very few Orioles fans in sight. A Wednesday night Orioles-Astros contest does not exactly bring hoards flocking to downtown
The last time I ate dinner at Harborplace before a game, my favorite baseball fan and I endured a 13-inning game interrupted by a series of drunken brawls in and around our section in the left-field upper boxes. Tonight, there will be no violence. Thanks to our family connections seat upgrade, we’ll have a terrific vantage point on the game from the 3rd base side field boxes. There won’t even by much violence on the scoreboard.
But there will be extra innings.
Jeremy Guthrie is on the bump for the Birds. He dispatches the Astros in order on three ground balls. A much more agreeable opening than last night’s initial half inning.
In the bottom of the first, Nick Markakis raps a double off of journeyman Astros hurler Brian Moehler. With 1 out, last night’s hero Melvin Mora, who, despite a putrid .240 overall batting average is hitting close to .350 with men in scoring position, rolls out weakly to Wigginton at 3rd base. Markakis takes 3rd on a wild pitch from Moehler. 2 pitches later, Aubrey Huff has drawn a walk. 1st and 3rd. 2 outs. Kevin Millar laces a sinking liner towards right field. If it drops, it’s a 1-0 lead for the birds and the rally will live on. As the liner dives towards the safety of the lush green right field turf, the hard-charging string-bean right fielder, Hunter Pence, dashes forward, hurls himself earthward, and snares the would be RBI single.
Following the baseball cliché that a good play in the field will be followed by success at bat, in the top of the second, Pence crashes a double to left-center. Lance Berkman lumbers to 3rd and the visitors threaten. Guthrie pacifies the invaders by inducing back to back lineouts by Erstad and Wigginton to end the inning. It will be several innings before the Astros touch a base again.
The veteran Moehler has overcome the first inning malaise and is really dealing. The two teams start an energetic swap of scoreboard goose eggs. 6 up and 6 down in the 3rd. 6 up and six down in the 4th. Only a 2-out Adam Jones single denies Moehler a perfect 5th. As the mid-game restlessness of the Camden Yards patrons takes hold of the stadium, a brightly-colored beach ball is sent knuckling through the air in our section. It survives for several skyward bumps from obliging fans before it is snatched from thin-air and put to sleep by the 250 pound usher in our section. Some boos ring out. If the usher in question weren’t my uncle, I might have been tempted to join in.
After another silent half inning from the Astros in the top of the 6th, the Orioles mount a rally, but, a pop-up from Huff and a fly out by Millar dash the home teams scoring chances.
With 1 out in the top of the 7th, a new sound rings through the park. It’s the sonic boom of maple wood pummeling horsehide. Lance Berkman has just stratophered a Guthrie fastball to right field. 1-0 Visitors. Despite an error by Shortstop non-solution Alex Cintron, no further damage is done. Ty Wigginton throws a bit of a temper tantrum at home plate after he strikes out to end the inning. Cecil Cooper rushes out to defend his 3rd baseman. For a second straight night, an Astros player, this time Wigginton, appears to get the ole’ heave-ho from the umpire. But, rather than retreating to the dugout and clubhouse, Wigginton, after a great deal of huffing and puffing, wanders to his position at the hot corner. Un-ejections on back-to-back nights?
The natives stand and sing Hymn #1983: Thank God I’m a Country Boy. Luke Scott strides into the batters box after the singing concludes. Before the former Astro has exited the hitting square, he has tied the game with a magnificent blast into the grass patch beyond the centerfield wall. A single, an error, and a walk load the bases with birds with 1 out. A change to take the lead? No. Wesley Wright fans Nick Markakis and Chris Sampson forces Mora to tap out weakly to Matsui at second. Game tied. Chance to seize the lead squandered.
Guthrie is still in command. Despite the failed rally, I think I am smiling more than my watching buddy. The visitors go down 1-2-3 in the 8th. Guthrie walks off the mound to an enthusiastic ovation. A run in the 8th and the under-supported Orioles ace will be in line for a victory.
The Birds go down in order.
Chad Bradford, the Orioles submarining veteran reliever enters to pitch the top of the 9th. My companion, having read Michael Lewis’ classic Moneyball, knows a great deal about
No damage in the bottom of the 9th. The Astros hint at a threat in the top of the 10th, but, with 2 outs and a runner on 1st, Brad Ausmus manages only a 30 foot tapper to the mound against
Enter Jose Valverde. Nick Markakis will lead off. Last night, Markakis feebly flailed at Valverde’s fastball in one of the most 1-sided at-bats in recent memory. Tonight, the Orioles franchise player has improved slightly. A respectable ground ball to 1st base is the first out of the inning, but, Markakis trots back to the dugout with his dignity in tact. Melvin Mora, who last night slew the portly Valverde in the 8th inning, crashes a single to left center. Aubrey Huff follows with a roller into left field which is hit just weakly enough, and Carlos Lee is just fat and slow enough, to allow Mora to scamper from first to third. Runners on the corners, 1 out. The outfield mopes in a few steps. The corner infielders creep inward. Only the 2nd baseman and shortstop remain on the infield dirt.
Millar raps a crisp single up the middle. Mora jogs homeward. Millar taps first base with his left foot then is descended upon by a mob of teammates. They knock off his helmet, exposing a head of dyed-yellow hair. Not even the amusing sight of a grown man with comically blonde hair can console my favorite baseball fan. It’s a second straight dramatic 1-run loss for the Astros. They have now lost 7 straight.
The great thing about baseball, I think as I see the frown on my companion’s face, is that the pain of 1 game only lasts about 20 hours until the first pitch the following night. And, may the sports gods be praised, we will be there again tomorrow night for that pain-erasing (or pain-delaying as the situation may be) first pitch.
Love and Baseball Part I
Two weeks ago, the Baltimore Orioles swept the Houston Astros in a 3-game mid-week inter-league series played at Camden Yards. To the untrained eye, it was a wholly unremarkable occurrence. A team which is showing signs of improvement after a dismal decade won three straight games against a team which, by all accounts, is coming apart at the seems and headed for a well below .500 finish. I doubt anyone at ESPN even considered any of the three games for national tv coverage. And justifiably so. Boston Red Sox pre-game stretching has more of a national draw than mid-week Orioles vs Astros.
Despite what those who would jump at the chance to watch Kevin Youkilis limber up would have you believe, The Orioles-Astros series was indeed extraordinary. All three games had dramatic finishes. All three featured lead changes, timely hitting, clutch pitching and acrobatic defense. Most importantly, I watched all three games from the 3rd base-side lower box seats with my favorite Houston Astros fan. Though perhaps not the most conflict-free dating strategy (I doubt too many Roman boys asked Christian girls to go see Lions vs. Christians in the Colosseum) I am pleased to report that after three summer nights in Baltimore, my favorite baseball fan is still speaking to me.
In what may accurately be called PUSHING MY LUCK, I have decided to write about the series sweep. Over the next few days, I intend to weave my mental notes, our scorecards, and my occasional scribbled side-comments into a narrative which tells the story of 3 games, 3 dates, and 1 very very contented Orioles fan.
Despite what those who would jump at the chance to watch Kevin Youkilis limber up would have you believe, The Orioles-Astros series was indeed extraordinary. All three games had dramatic finishes. All three featured lead changes, timely hitting, clutch pitching and acrobatic defense. Most importantly, I watched all three games from the 3rd base-side lower box seats with my favorite Houston Astros fan. Though perhaps not the most conflict-free dating strategy (I doubt too many Roman boys asked Christian girls to go see Lions vs. Christians in the Colosseum) I am pleased to report that after three summer nights in Baltimore, my favorite baseball fan is still speaking to me.
In what may accurately be called PUSHING MY LUCK, I have decided to write about the series sweep. Over the next few days, I intend to weave my mental notes, our scorecards, and my occasional scribbled side-comments into a narrative which tells the story of 3 games, 3 dates, and 1 very very contented Orioles fan.
The trip to
The good times stopped abruptly once the contest on the field began. Michael Bourn led the game off with an infield single. Garrett Olson immediately went into his best Rick Ankiel impersonation and wild pitched Bourn all the way to 3rd. A Kaz Matsui ground ball to shortstop plated Bourn and, before the big bats in the middle of their order even began their night’s work,
Olson settled down and retired the Astros without further damage on the scoreboard. His counterpart, Brandon Backe, who, as an aside, was an absolute stud in MVP Baseball 2005 for the PS2, wiggled out of trouble in the first and second innings. After a 1-2-3 top half of the third, the Orioles seized a 2-1 lead as Aubrey “The Magnificent Bum” Huff crashed a Backe offering into the stands. I stood and clapped. I’ve always had the utmost respect for Huff as both a person and a player, or so I declare to anyone within earshot. Caroline, slouching in her seat to my left, knows better, but is too perturbed by the turn of events on the field to expose my lie.
I stand again and my companion slouches and cringes again as Freddie Bynum, flicks an RBI single up the middle in the bottom of the fourth to stretch the hosts’ lead to 3-1.
Olson is cruising. He’s retired 12 straight Astros when Ty Wigginton strides into the box with 2 out in the top of the 5th. Wigginton fills out his uniform. His build suggests that he may have a future as an NFL fullback should he give up on baseball. He cracks a single. Humberto Quintero follows suit. As does Michael Bourn. 3-2 Orioles. After a Ramon Hernandez passed ball the runners advance to 2nd and 3rd and I declare Hernandez to be simply a Bum. Not magnificent on this night. Only a bum. With 2 men in scoring position, Kaz Matsui send the girl next to me to happy land with a 2-run double. 4-3 visitors.
I groan. In my anxiety I begin making nonsensical arm gestures towards the Orioles dugout as if to signal to Dave Trembley that the time has come to excuse Olson from further responsibilities for the evening. The Orioles skipper ignores me. Olson walks Miguel Tejada. The Astros fan with 2 X-chromosomes, sensing an opportunity for her team to go for the jugular, admonishes me to “Have Faith in my Pitcher.” I keep gesturing. Trembley heads my cries, emerges from the dugout, and summons Matt Albers from the bullpen.
As Albers trots in from the pen, my companion explains that the Orioles right-hander gave himself the nickname “Fat Albers” while with her Astros and that the Houston rumor mill was buzzing last summer that the youngster had “maturity issues.”
Issues and bad-nicknames be damned. Albers induces a ground ball from Lance Berkman which Brian Roberts plays cleanly and lobs to first for the final out of the inning.
Carlos Lee adds to my pain in the top of the 6th with a blast into the left field stands. 5-3. Maybe Albers does have maturity issues. Maybe he is a fat idiot bent on my eternal misery. Nope. With Geoff Blum on second base, Albers fields a come backer from Quintero, and flings it to first to end the sixth.
A 1-out Adam Jones double in the bottom of the sixth gives the Orioles runners on 2nd and 3rd. The lovely lady to my left stirs in her seat. “Why isn’t Cooper coming out to the mound?” she wonders out loud. I encourage her to have faith in her starting pitcher.
I should have kept my mouth shut. Backe fans light-hitting Freddie Bynum and then departs the game. Tim Byrdak replaces Backe on the rubber. Brian Roberts, swinging from the right-handed box, lofts a fly ball down the right field line. Hunter Pence, who is skinnier-looking in person than on TV, dashes toward the line, leaps up against the tall green padded wall along the line, snags the ball, and snuffs out a
After the Camden Yards patrons have belted out a rousing chorus of Thank God I’m a Country Boy, Nick Markakis returns Birdland to its feel with an opposite field homer to lead off the 7th. 2 batters later, the Magnificent Huff strokes a double; and with 2 out, Luke Scott works a walk from the recently inserted Doug Brocail. Runners on 1st and 2nd. 2 outs. Brocail runs the count to 2-1 against Ramon Hernandez. Then, suddenly, a fuse inside Brocail blows. For reasons not clear to the casual observer, Brocail and home plate umpire Ed Hickox enter into a heated war of words. Hickox appears to wind up and eject Brocail from the game. Cecil Cooper sprints out of the visiting team dugout. The
When order is restored, somehow, magically, Brocail is still in the game. I am shocked. Un-ejected? Is that possible?
No worries. The outlook has improved. 5-4 Astros. Jim Johnson enters to pitch the 8th and promptly fans Lance Berkman. Carlos Lee singles, exits the game for a pinch runner, Reggie Abercrombie, who, is gunned down at second on a steal attempt a few pitches later. I express thanks for Cecil Cooper’s bone-headed insistence on playing small ball with a lineup of boppers. A hint of homicidal rage towards Cooper dances briefly in the Astros fan’s eyes.
The Orioles half of the 8th plays out like so many games played by the Orioles in the years before I came into the world. Adam Jones singles. Bynum sacrifices him to second base and Brian Roberts works a walk. Go-ahead run on first base. 1 out. Cooper ambles towards the mound, removes Brocail and calls for Jose Valverde, the Astros portly flame throwing closer.
Markakis vs. Valverde. The Orioles best vs. The Astros best in a critical situation. After taking strike one. Markakis offers a feeble wave at strike 2 and then, with the crowd at a fever pitch, contorts his body and offers a still feebler poof of his wrists and wiggle of the bat at strike 3. 2 outs. Mora coming up. Air escaping fast from the
Mora falls behind in the count 1-2 and then declares war. Dug into his trench in the right-handed box, Mora deflects Valverde's offerings, watches 2 overthrown fastball sail wide of the strike zone, and, with the count full at 3-2, rockets a double into the alley between right and center. Standing on second, a lone Oriole in a sea of red-clad disheartened Astros, Mora pumps his fists in excitement. His double has given the home team a 6-5 lead.
George Sherrill works a 1-2-3 ninth inning. The Orioles have won the first game of the series. Caroline and I rush out of the park and trek to the parking lot on
My birds have drawn first blood. But, 1 thrilling comeback win does not a series win guarantee. The games must be played. Tomorrow night could hold anything in store…
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